


209: You’ve Still Got Me

by harlequin (julie)



Series: Season 2 [9]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:59:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is still unhappy, and Arthur tries to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	209: You’ve Still Got Me

♦

‘You’re still not happy, are you, Merlin?’ the prince observed as Merlin undressed him that night.

‘I’m sorry, sire,’ Merlin mumbled, keeping his head down and hoping that Arthur didn’t notice the ever–present tears springing to his eyes.

Arthur just sighed. But once he was naked, he reached for Merlin and hauled him into a hug, one arm firmly wrapped around his waist, and the other hand pushing fingers up hard into Merlin’s hair, Arthur’s head pressed close beside Merlin’s. They were silent for a long moment. Merlin didn’t dare relax into it for fear of breaking into sobs.

Eventually Arthur said into Merlin’s ear, ‘It’s a compliment, you know. The way I treat you.’

And despite everything, that drew a great guffaw from Merlin. ‘A _compliment_?’

‘Yes. I have to be the prince for everyone else. With you I can just be –’

‘– the prat?’ Merlin supplied.

‘ _Myself_ , I was going to say.’

‘Yourself, yes. The prat.’

‘Shut up!’ Arthur exclaimed in that half–laughing incredulous tone that delighted in Merlin’s incorrigibility. He drew away a little so that they could see each other. ‘You know,’ the prince continued, ‘I take it as a compliment, the way you treat me.’

‘I certainly don’t mean it that way.’

Arthur ignored this. ‘The complete lack of respect you show me. The lack of fear. That means something.’

Merlin sighed, and lifted a hand to run his knuckles down Arthur’s cheek. ‘Yes,’ he said softly, ‘it means I’m an idiot.’ Then he added, a little more brusquely, ‘Come on, let’s get you settled for the night.’

‘Yes. Bed.’ Arthur stepped back, sliding his hand down Merlin’s arm to hold his hand, tugging on it to bring Merlin with him…

‘Arthur…’ Merlin protested. How could he? How could he? When Freya had… When Arthur had… Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to let the tears well up again. ‘No, Arthur…’

But Arthur was remorseless, getting into the bed without letting go of Merlin, insisting on him following despite the fact that Merlin was still fully dressed. ‘Come on,’ Arthur whispered.

Merlin groaned, with his heart wrenching so hard within him that it tore apart.

‘Come on…’ Then Arthur asked in the rawest murmur, ‘Did I really make you that unhappy?’

‘No,’ he blurted in instinctive honesty. Then he groaned again as he surrendered once more – surrendered his body, at least – to his destiny. Merlin heeled off his boots, and followed the prince down into the bed. Into his arms. Into Arthur’s welcoming arms…

♦

Despite Merlin’s lingering sense of disbelief, it soon became apparent what the prince intended. Whether he wanted it for himself or for Merlin’s sake was a question unasked and perhaps unanswerable, but his eyes were soft and his mouth yearning, his arms encompassing, his body yielding under Merlin’s. And Merlin wanted it, he wanted _so much_ to possess the only person he could now that Freya had slipped forever beyond his grasp, he wanted _so much_ to lose any sense of himself in an act shockingly new, dangerously forbidden. He wanted to commit himself once more, to discover if there was still a place for him, within a destiny from which he’d almost walked away.

They shifted, and Arthur’s legs parted for him. Merlin knelt there on the bed between those strong thighs, fumbling with the fastening on his own britches while Arthur gazed up at him, solemn, calm. There was the slightest hint about the corner of Arthur’s eyes that meant, for one who knew him well, the prince was a bit afraid but was being brave. There was a hint about the corners of his mouth that meant he was determined to see this through.

‘Merlin –’ Arthur gasped as Merlin finally freed himself and was shifting down into Arthur’s arms reaching up for him. ‘Merlin!’ as Merlin positioned himself in ways he’d only witnessed before now. _‘Merlin…’_ as Arthur arched back, his strong shoulders pushing down into the mattress as he lifted his hips, offered himself…

_‘Arthur!’_ Merlin cried out – and a sob wrung him, twisted him – and he pulled away with a bereft shout. ‘Oh god…’

‘No,’ Arthur was protesting, following him up as Merlin lifted away, Arthur’s hands trying to clutch at him. ‘No. Don’t stop, it’s all right, I _promise_ it’s all right. Merlin, please –’

‘I have – I have to tell you something,’ Merlin gasped. Even now while he felt gutted with grief, he was also gutted by yearning for a possession that he’d just refused.

‘Merlin, please, it’ll be all right. Whatever it is can wait. Tell me afterwards.’

‘No. You might not want to let me do that, if you know.’

‘But I would, I _would_ want you, I –’ The prince seemed to suddenly recall himself, and he stopped babbling so needily. He looked away for a moment, considering, his eyes becoming a little more guarded. And then he pushed himself up a bit to sit against the pillows. But he was still naked, still erect, his mouth was still yearning, his arms were empty, and his thighs were parted. He looked at Merlin, who knelt there on the bed, his britches pushed down his thighs, and his cock still rising hard. ‘What is it, then?’ Arthur asked, his voice rough with emotion. ‘What do you want to tell me?’

Merlin screwed his eyes shut, but the tears welled regardless, and spilled down his cheeks. ‘There was a – a girl.’

‘I see,’ said the prince in clipped tones.

‘I – I loved her.’

‘Yes.’ Difficult to tell what was behind that bitten–off syllable, whether it was hurt or impatience or anger. ‘I note that you’re speaking in the past tense.’

Merlin bowed his head for a moment, ground his hands up over his face and back into his hair. ‘She’s – She’s gone now. Forever. I tried – I tried so hard to – but I lost her.’

‘I see,’ Arthur repeated, though in slightly softer tones. ‘And do you – do you love her still?’

‘Yes.’

There was silence for a moment. Long enough for Merlin to sit back on his heels, and then lift his face to look at Arthur – who had slumped a little, and whose mouth was twisted a little in pain. The prince said, ‘Then it wasn’t me who made you so unhappy.’

‘It was you as well,’ Merlin reassured him with utter sincerity.

Arthur sat up, bringing his arms into a huddle, and even though he was now nearer Merlin he seemed more closed to him. A moment’s consideration, and then the prince said, ‘You told me not so long ago that you… You told me how you felt. About me. Is that no longer true?’

‘It’s still true, Arthur,’ he replied, returning the prince’s guarded gaze. ‘I love you. Probably in just about every way there is to love. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.’

‘Well, then.’ Arthur lay back down. Lifted one hand towards Merlin, though his expression was remote. ‘Get on with what you were doing.’

‘Arthur –’ he protested.

‘There was a time when you chose to stay with me,’ Arthur reminded him, ‘despite the fact that my… affections were engaged elsewhere.’

‘That’s different.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes.’

Arthur sighed. ‘I suppose it should be. But it isn’t.’

Merlin looked at him. The prince looked more resigned than needy now, but he was also lying there, waiting for Merlin. Waiting for his lover. Waiting to be possessed. _‘Arthur…’_ Merlin whispered with something like awe falling through him.

Arthur looked at him, and said, _‘Yes,’_ in much the same tone.

Merlin lifted off his own shirt so that he was bare–chested, so there would be no barriers between them. And this time, when Arthur lifted his hand in an offer, Merlin accepted.

♦

Moving over him, moving within this beautiful man in a rhythm both familiar and utterly new – Arthur entirely his, so tight around him it was almost painful, but a delicious kind of pain – and the veiled hint of real hurt in Arthur’s eyes was all that kept Merlin from losing his grip on civility and just _fucking_. The prince was hurting, yet he lay there completely open to Merlin, with his strong legs hooked around Merlin’s waist, and he was pushing down into Merlin’s thrusts as if wanting _more deeper harder **more**_. But the prince was hurting…

‘I’ll be quick,’ Merlin promised, closing his eyes, intending to concentrate on the pleasure alone for a moment, which was honestly all it could possibly take.

‘Don’t you dare!’ ordered the prince in a gasp.

Merlin groaned, and opened his eyes again, focussed on the pain he was causing as a preventative for the pleasure he felt. ‘May not – have much – choice.’

‘I want you to finish me while you’re –’

‘Are you sure – are you sure you can –’ Merlin hadn’t been able to, his first time.

‘Yes!’ Arthur cried, as if to say, _How dare you even question that?_

‘By the gods…’ Merlin groaned. He shifted up a bit so that he was propped at arm’s length over Arthur. He found a slower more deliberate rhythm, and he reached a hand down to wrap around Arthur’s cock which had remained obstinately hard. Began what, if applied to Merlin, would be a devastatingly all–encompassing stroke. Gazed down at Arthur, trying to remove himself from the immediacy of it. Looked down upon that sweat–dampened dark–gold hair, that handsome face almost distraught now with passion and pain, that amazing body honed by effort and discipline into something quite miraculous. ‘You’ve always been worth looking at, Arthur Pendragon.’

The prince moaned a little, and lost any last remaining sharpness in his focus.

‘You’ve always been worth being with.’

‘Merlin,’ he ground out. _‘Finish it.’_

‘Hold yourself there,’ Merlin ordered, bracing himself with his knees a little further apart, leaning against the prince even as he thrust within him. He brought his other hand to Arthur’s balls, and tugged on them in exactly the way he knew that Arthur liked best.

_‘ **God damn it, Merlin!** ’_

Merlin waited until he’d snagged Arthur’s gaze again, and then he said, ‘You’ve always been worth loving.’ And with a twist of one hand and a clutch of the other, he finished it. Arthur arched back like a drawn bow, crying out, and Merlin murmured, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,’ until he was finally done.

♦

‘Merlin,’ said the prince, lying there exhausted and halfway to sleep in Merlin’s arms.

‘Yes, Arthur? Oh! Thank you, sire. I really mean it. _Thank you._ ’

‘Oh, _do_ shut up.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Merlin –’

But a silence stretched. Eventually Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur’s temple, and murmured, ‘I’ll be fine, Arthur. We’ll be fine.’

‘Good,’ said the prince. ‘I believe you.’ And then he slept.

♦


End file.
